10
“Pack a few bags, and do it quick,” Ethan ordered, closing the door to Davey’s townhome behind the three of them. “We have to relocate with the android.”
Davey sighed. “I am so fired.”
“Not for another day or so…unless the security guard can remember something more than your tits.”
Hogan made a face. “Did you really show that guy your tits?”
“No,” she said firmly and drilled Ethan with a warning glare. “Don’t say tits.”
Taking Hogan by the shoulders, she steered him toward the stairs. “Pack. Now.” She pointed at Ethan. “Go with him and stop with the boob jokes around my baby brother.”
“He’s sixteen, Davey. He knows what tits are.”
“No. He’s fifteen. And as his legal guardian, it’s my right to pretend that he doesn’t.”
Laughing, Ethan obeyed without further argument, accompanying Hogan up the stairs while Davey followed closely behind. She was halfway done packing when she remembered Hogan’s medication. The pills really did little to help with the night terrors—and now Davey knew why—but they did help him regain calm and a measure of focus after consecutive sleepless nights. Downstairs in the kitchen, Davey grabbed the pill bottle and was headed back to her bedroom when she heard a key enter the lock.
Shit.
There was only one other person besides her and Hogan who had a key to the house. Dashing to the front door, Davey hoped to curtail the visit, but upon seeing the stricken look on Travis’s face as he stood in the open doorway, she knew getting him to leave quickly was a lost cause.
There was no denying it. Travis had every right to be angry. Still, Davey was confused at first, wondering how he could have found out about the break-in under his credentials and connected it to her so quickly. Ethan had been certain that her role in the crime would take much longer than a couple of hours to unmask. Then Travis spoke, and Davey realized this visit wasn’t about the break-in at all.
“I remembered something about last night, and I really hope—” he faltered as his voice cracked with emotion. “I really hope you can tell me it’s not true. Tell me this memory is simply a delusion from the brain of a drunk, paranoid bastard.”
Knowing guilt had to be plainly written across her features, Davey stared at the floor. Hearing him say it out loud brought shame across her shoulders like the stripes from a bullwhip. “Travis, I’m sorry,” she whispered. There was no need to wait for confirmation, and denying it was equally useless. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
He shook his head, wearing a dazed expression. “Special Agent Asshole—he’s Ethan, isn’t he?”
Davey nodded. “I was going to tell you, I swear. I was just waiting for the right time.”
His face flushed crimson. Tears welled in his eyes. “Did you fuck him?”
She took a deep breath. “Travis, I—”
He struck out, clobbering her across the face with an open hand. Davey staggered sideways, lost her footing and fell to the floor. She looked up at Travis, stunned by the monstrous look of rage in his expression and the fact that he’d hit her. Through the dull ringing in her ears, she heard a strange roar tear through the room and wondered if a wild beast had somehow gotten inside of the house. And then Ethan was there, barreling between her and Travis. He tried to defend himself—to at least shield himself from the attack—but a penguin would have stood a better chance against a polar bear. One of Ethan’s hands seized Travis by the throat and lifted his feet clear off the floor, carrying him backward until his body slammed against the wall. Sage-colored chunks of paint fell as the drywall buckled beneath the force. Then the roar sounded again, and Davey stupidly realized Ethan was the source of the inhuman noise. He raised his other hand, grabbing Travis’ forearm to pin it next to his head with the same brutal force. Next came the nauseating crack of splintering bone, closely overlapping with Travis’ agonized shout as his face went white with pain.
Adrenaline surged through Davey’s body. She jumped to her feet, knowing the next few seconds would be crucial. There wasn’t time to feel anger or pain. Reaching out to Ethan, she placed her hand on his shoulder. Travis’ misshapen right arm remained in his grasp, the bones within being pulverized by the superhuman strength contained in Ethan’s fingers.
“Stop,” she commanded softly in a voice shaking with the stress of feigned calm. “Stop hurting him.”
Ethan turned to her, and Davey gasped, nearly pulling away from him. If Travis’ anger had given him the visage of a monster, then Ethan was the devil himself. Somehow, in the face of his blistering fury, she held her ground.
“Please,” she whispered.
Travis groaned sickly. Sweat dripped from his skin, now distinctly ashen in hue. Still looking at Davey, Ethan closed his eyes, and slowly, one-by-one, his fingers released the mangled forearm. The hand at Travis’ throat abruptly relinquished its hold, and Travis collapsed to the floor, coughing between ragged breaths. An ugly, purple bruise encircled his throat—it probably hurt like hell—but the injury was nothing compared to his ruined arm.
Turning back to Travis, Ethan took him by the collar and hauled him from the floor, ignoring the ensuing screams of pain. He nearly tore off the car door as he opened it before shoving Travis inside. Then Ethan waited at the driveway, glowering in silence until Travis had gone. As he stalked back toward the house, some of his anger finally dissipated. Then he took one look at Davey and his demonic rage flared once more.
“You’re bleeding,” he said shortly.
Shutting the front door and securing it, Ethan retreated into the kitchen, returning moments later with a warm and damp cloth which he gently pressed to her bottom lip. Davey winced and for the first time, tasted blood. Suddenly lightheaded, she clutched his arm as the ground swayed beneath her feet. And then she was no longer standing but cradled securely against Ethan’s chest. When he set her on the sofa, she couldn’t resist dropping her head against the pillows and closing her eyes, just needing a minute to let the dizziness pass and for her heart rate to return to normal.
Ethan was still quiet. That was bad. Davey kept one hand on some part of him—she couldn’t tell which—just to make sure he remained in the room with her and didn’t go running off after Travis to finish what he’d started. With that thought, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. She was absolutely pissed at Travis for hitting her. No one deserved that. But it was best for everyone if she downplayed everything. Travis had received immediate retribution for his actions—maybe even more than warranted—and would suffer with the pain of his injuries for far longer than Davey would feel a busted lip and bruised cheek.
“I’m okay, Ethan.”
“The bastard hit you, Davey,” he said. “I wanted to kill him.”
She reached for his hand—the one that wasn’t fisted and pressed against his shaking leg—and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for not doing that.”
He exhaled forcefully. “Thank you for stopping me.” Tucking an errant strand of pink hair behind her ear, Ethan bent forward and placed his lips upon her forehead in a lingering kiss. As she leaned into him, his attention suddenly shifted in a direction past her. “It’s over, Hogan. You don’t have to hide.”
“Is Davey okay?”
It was probably difficult, given Ethan’s current murderous disposition, but somehow, he mustered a reassuring smile for her little brother. “She will be.”
He patted a spot next to Davey and stood to relinquish his seat. Hogan obediently came and sat down. Though his eyes were a little too wide and his movements somewhat skittish, he focused on his sister, zeroing in on her swollen lip and bruised cheek. Something in him changed as he examined her injuries, gingerly touching them with one slender finger. A certain stillness settled around him, gradually infiltrating the atmosphere within the room. Hogan’s gaze was distant, but an almost eerie intensity radiated from his huge brown eyes. What he uttered next was even more unsettling.
“If he tries to hurt her again, you must do what you were designed to.”
Startled, Davey found herself unable to react. She was too captivated by the phenomenon unfolding before her. It was as if the very galaxy itself had come alive in Hogan’s eyes, a spiral of stars and celestial light swirling around within the darkness of where his pupils should have been. Then Hogan blinked. And the wonder was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Hogan shifted on the sofa, looking questioningly from Ethan to Davey. “Is there any chance we could order a pizza before we go? I’m starving.”
There was a beat of silence when neither Ethan—who appeared to be equally mystified by Hogan’s strange metamorphosis—or Davey spoke. The normal, fifteen-year-old kid who was hungry and anxious for food had just been someone—or something—entirely different only a second ago. Considering that Hogan could travel to a realm between the living the and dead, take other souls with him, or bring them back, maybe Davey shouldn’t have been so bewildered. But never before during one of Hogan’s insightful moments had he done something quite like this.
Hogan made a face, clearly getting impatient. Shaking her head, it was Davey who finally spoke. “What did you mean, Hogan? What was Ethan designed to do?”
Hogan stared down at the floor. “I don’t know. Sometimes I just get the urge to say certain things, and the feeling that something terrible will happen if I don’t say them.”
Davey nodded. “You used to do something similar when you were younger.”
Hogan shrugged indifferently. He obviously wasn’t interested in discussing the matter further. “So, pizza?”
“You can’t have pizza for breakfast,” Davey said.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not what responsible adults feed kids for breakfast.”
“Says who? And since when did you become a responsible adult?”
“Since the judge said I was.” Sighing, she stood up slowly from the couch. “I need to finish packing. We can get breakfast on the way.”
“On the way where? Where are we going?”
Davey shuffled to the stairs. It was as if a brick wall of exhaustion had suddenly collided against her. The sleepless night and roller coaster ride of adrenaline were certainly to blame. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “Ask Ethan.”
∞∞∞
“So, my little brother has superpowers.”
Ethan paused his unpacking, glancing up from the half-emptied duffle bag. “That might be oversimplifying it.”
“A lot has happened in the past forty-eight hours, Ethan. I’m sleep-deprived. I need simple.”
“Okay then,” he conceded with a smile. “Hogan has superpowers.”
“Shit.” Davey flopped back on the queen-sized bed, sending a film of dust into the air. Her suitcase lay in the corner, untouched. She had neither the mental or physical energy to perform such a menial task.
Rounding the bed, Ethan came and sat next to her. “It’s going to be okay, Davey. I have a plan.”
“You mean the one you still haven’t explained to me?”
“Yes. That one.”
Realizing he wasn’t going to comment further, Davey simply let it go. “Did you check on Hogan?” she asked, changing the subject.
“He went for a swim.”
She couldn’t blame Hogan for taking full advantage of the lakefront property Ethan had selected to be their temporary hideaway. The house was enormous. It contained six bedrooms and five bathrooms, spread out over 6,000 square feet and two levels, plus a basement. More importantly, the home was extremely secluded—the only one on a tiny island with a mainland that was miles away. Despite being surrounded by water, a heated swimming pool had been constructed on the grounds. Unfortunately, Davey was the only one in their little troop who hadn’t gotten a full night’s rest. The thought of swimming made her feel as if she would drown. Reaching behind her for a pillow, Davey placed it beneath her head and closed her eyes. She intended to remedy the matter promptly, but her brain had other ideas. Simply too much had happened, leaving too many questions and too many worries. Breathing a sigh of disgust, she sat up and smothered her face with the pillow.
“It’s probably been twenty years since I’ve slept, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how it’s done.”
“Be quiet,” she ordered in a muffled voice. “Unless you have a way to make me fall asleep in the next sixty seconds.”
Even as Ethan fell into an amenable silence, Davey dropped the pillow and gave him a look of scrutiny. On the other hand, she thought, maybe he can be useful.
“It wasn’t me,” Ethan said, raising his hands in an innocent gesture. “I even stopped breathing for your sake.”
Davey rolled her eyes. “Shut up and make love to me,” she said.
Leaning forward, she kissed him, long and slow. Ethan needed no further convincing. Wrapping both hands in her hair, he dragged her closer, using teeth and tongue to deepen the kiss, consuming her with the sudden fire in his touch. He freed her of her blouse, gradually pushed her down to the mattress, and then stretched the length of his body over hers. Already rock solid, his cock pressed into her thighs, summoning a burning desire within Davey’s loins, making her ache with need. She squirmed beneath him, driving her hips upward and grinding against his bulging arousal, but he pushed back, pinning her down with his body while his mouth went to her neck and covered her throat with scorching kisses. Between the heat of his kisses and the tortuous tease of his cock pressing into her abdomen, Davey could hardly catch her breath.
And then he was unzipping her jeans and pulling them over her hips. She helped kick them off, craving him so much that her body was literally shaking. As he stripped off his own clothing, she admired the body of the man she had come to love so much. By design, it was flawless. Chest, biceps, abs—each muscle was chiseled to perfection. She gazed up at Ethan through lowered lashes, her lustful appraisal lingering on his thick, magnificent cock. His hand slid between her thighs, pushing aside panties that clung to her wetness to bury two fingers inside of her. Davey gasped and then moaned as his fingers thrust in and out, tantalizing her to near oblivion. She was dripping wet and could hear the slick of her moisture gliding against his fingers.
“Ethan,” she whispered, needing—wanting—more.
Placing his hands beneath her shoulders, he pulled her up and against him, capturing her mouth in another passionate kiss. His hold on her body tightened almost roughly. Then he shifted, forcing her onto her stomach as he straddled her from behind. Entangling one hand within her tousled locks, he turned her face to his and claimed her lips for another bruising kiss. He broke away, leaving her panting for air and shaking with anticipation as his hands slid from her shoulders, down her back, and caressed her bottom. The savage rip of fabric followed as her panties surrendered to his indomitable will. He spread her cheeks, exposing her, and then the tip of his cock nudged against her, hovering torturously outside of her folds. Davey’s hands clenched into fists. She lifted her ass, beckoning him to take her.
With a single stroke, he granted that request. An involuntary cry tore from her throat as he pierced her to the hilt, driving forward in one unyielding motion as her body was forced to accept his ample girth and her womb stretched to absorb every inch. Her shuddering, breathless moan became a low-pitched wail of unfathomable pleasure. And then Davey was lost.
She heard the violent slap of their bodies meeting together, the lustful noises spilling from her lips, and Ethan’s punctuated moans of fervor. But those sounds came as if from far away because her mind had separated from her body. All Davey could do was feel. Feel the insane amount of pleasure Ethan’s body was delivering to hers. Pleasure that culminated in a series of climaxes, undulating through her body in wave after wave that left her dizzy and seeing stars. For a few seconds, she blacked out. When Davey came to, she was lying on her back, staring up at the vaulted bedroom ceiling while Ethan kissed her face.
“Oh fuck,” she said. She tried to lift her hands but couldn’t move. Her muscles may as well have been made of wet spaghetti.
Above his stormy eyes, Ethan’s brow knitted with worry. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice raw and anxious.
“God no,” Davey said, and laughed. She tried to move again. This time she managed to roll onto her side. Taking Ethan’s hand, she pressed his palm to her lips and looked him over. The swell of his cock rested against his thigh with a few drops of his own release still leaking from the tip. “You’re incredible,” she whispered and kissed his hand again.
He finally relaxed. Blinking slowly, he kissed her hair. “Shit.”
She laughed again. “I know I said make love to me, but wow.”
“No, Davey, that was fucking.” He sidled closer, reaching around behind her to unclasp the bra that had miraculously stayed in place during their vigorous romp. As her breasts spilled out, Ethan lowered his head and took his time, doting on each of her mounds until the nipples were well-sucked, rosy, and erect. His kisses moved to her belly, trailed down to her thighs and languished between them, gradually coaxing Davey into a renewed state of arousal. As she began to pant and tremble beneath the magic of his mouth, Ethan paused to watch her with a hungry, glimmering gaze.
“This is making love,” he said softly.